Summary: There's evil once again in the city of sin. Whatever happens in Vegas…might just kill ya.
Timeline: Sequel to Poisonous Fear (recommended that one is read first), Early/Mid Season Six
Spoilers: Grave Danger, Bodies in Motion, Daddy's Little Girl, several references to other episodes
Disclaimer: This is all written in fun. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and the producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.
Title: To Whom It May Concern
By: duffshel
Author's Note: Alright, just want to warn everyone now, I am going to change up the beginning of the sixth season a little. I'm going to pass up a few episodes and arrange what I need for this story to work. Just wanted to warn everyone now so you are prepared for when it starts to happen. Also, I have had some concern about the summary for this story. Once again, it appears my characters are getting me into trouble. So, I changed it! Alright, I'm done. Read on my friends!
Chapter 2:
There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.
George Carlin (1937 - )
Seventy-two days earlier…
The alley was dark and desolate. On both sides, the buildings rose to the sky, leaving little imagination for windows or doorways. Their gray cement was washed in lamp light from each end. And the distance to the street from this spot was a long way. A scream would be hard to hear over passing traffic. Of course, if there was any traffic in this part of town.
It was warm and damp. The night was trying to take this case to new heights by compromising anything it could curl its wispy fingers into. Rain was predicted for the area in a few hours time. Everything would have to be documented and filed by then.
Catherine Willows brushed her blonde hair back out of her eyes and quickly returned the hand to her hip. She continued to look at all the possible angles and variables to this scene. Wasn't much to go on, but she was never one to let that get to her.
She pulled at the collar of her sleeveless blouse, the black forensic vest heavy. Her skin itched in the many places her sweat found to hide. Catherine could almost feel the small droplets running down her spine as she stood there.
The dead girl, brown hair, red shirt, and jeans, was face down. Her face was turned away from the spot Catherine was standing in. One shoe was still completely on the left foot. The right one, it stood about two inches away from the right foot. Laces were still tied. Catherine moved her light slowly up the body, trying not to get in the way of the field coroner.
"Almost done here, Catherine," David Phillips stated as he looked up at the female CSI. Normally, no one would get in his way or push him along. Now, Catherine was defiantly working quite hard at it.
"Oh, no big rush," her eyes squinted as she stopped the light on the back pocket of the victim, "Take your time. Partner not even here yet."
"Who's working this with you?"
Catherine shrugged as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves she pulled out of her pocket, "Not a clue. I came in early and left before anyone else showed. Grissom wasn't there to hand out any assignments. But ya know, no working cases alone right now."
The younger man nodded his head and let the subject drop. He turned his attention back to the young woman in front of him. The initial body temperature was almost finished and then he would be able to get any initial reporting done. David had most of what he wanted done, had a pretty good idea as to what took this girl's life that night as well.
Crouching down on the other side of the girl, Catherine snapped a quick photo of the back of the girl's jeans. Carefully she placed the digital camera on the ground by her foot and reached out her right hand towards that back pocket that had caught her attention. Catherine reached in slowly and gripped the item that popped the denim out from the girl's body.
It was a brown leather wallet. Catherine had to frown a little at the discovery. She didn't know too many women that carried a wallet in their back pocket. At least nothing as full as this one seemed to be. It could barely touch the two flaps together.
There was about four hundred dollars in various bills at a quick glance in the main compartment of the wallet. Several cards shined their tempting plastic under the beam of the flashlight. Catherine pulled a couple of them out, mumbling things about them to herself. All of them had the same name on them. And then she found the identification.
"Trisha Boettcher, age 27. Vegas resident. Lives over close to Henderson."
David looked up as he cleaned off his equipment from the temperature reading, "Body temp. is 95.2. She's been dead for a few hours. And the cause, I'd have to go with the gun shot wounds to the lower back and neck region. You can see the tattoos from the gun powder, which tells me that she was shot from a close range. The entrance wounds are fairly clean without a great deal of blood at either, small bullet most likely. Doc will have to fish them out for you to be sure. From this position, nothing else throwing itself at me. Ready to flip her?"
"Just a couple more shots. You take yours?"
"Yeah, but always need you CSI's to back me up," he gave a small smile to Catherine as she picked up her camera and filled the area with bright flashes and soft clicks.
With a quick nod, they both took positions around the girl and slowly worked on rolling her into the waiting body bag that David laid out. David arranged her arms and legs so she rested better in the confines of the plastic container. "Body's getting hard to more. Rigor mortis is beginning to set in. The girl has been dead at least two hours. Takes on average that long for the muscles to begin to stiffen. Fits with the body temperature. Have to get her back to the lab soon."
"Yeah, just a couple shots to her face and front," Catherine zoomed the lens in and focused on different areas of the girl. There were a couple of bruises that had risen from the flesh on the cheeks, but that was all that was revealed without removing any clothing, "Body dump?"
"Most likely. I don't see any signs of struggle here and no blood settling yet. Might have been fairly recent."
Catherine studied the girl's hands for a second longer, "Yeah, most likely."
The zipper went the entire length of the bag. It took a few agonizing seconds for it to close completely around the girl. Catherine sat back on her heels as she watched the blackness closed her vision off from the young face. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, brow buried down in thought.
Footsteps echoed behind her. It was a gait she knew all to well. It had a slight swagger to it, knowledge of good looks easily shown, though reluctantly admitted to. But there was a hesitation, a slight fear in the walk now. Each foot seemed to meet the cement in pure caution, as if waiting for the ground to open up underneath them. Catherine couldn't help to feel a tad upset about that. But as always, especially as of late, she swallowed it and forced a smile to her lips.
"Hey Nick. You get stuck with me on this hotter than hell night?"
The blonde CSI twisted her upper body around so she could take a good look at her partner for the night. Nick Stokes was wearing jeans, a blue t-shirt, topped off with his black vest. He held his light professionally in his right hand as he grinned downward from his standing position. His evidence bag hung casually from his left. Looking quickly to his feet, Catherine noted black hiking boots.
"More like you get the honor of me helping ya out on this one. Gris took Warrick, Sara, and Greg with him," Nick shrugged, "Too many people if ya ask me. More for us to do here."
"Well, David is getting ready to leave. Just have to scene to process now."
"Can't yap all night then can we." An impression of his old, large grin rose up on Nick's cheeks. It was getting closer and closer as time went on, but Catherine could still see the strain in getting the corners of his mouth up just enough to show to people.
"Got my photos of the body, was going to start walking the parameter now. David and I believe this is just the body dump, not the actual scene."
Nick nodded, rubbed at his forehead, running his hand through his short tresses, "Cool. I'll take this side, you that?"
"Divide and conquer, sounds like you've been around Grissom too much lately Nicky."
"What happens when he sticks ya on every case with him for a couple of weeks. But, does make sense so I won't rip him too much behind his back. He is the boss man after all."
The grin got a little larger as Nick started to make jabs. It was always something Catherine loved about the Texan. His sense of humor was contagious and most people got sucked into the laughter by it. And it was always in good terms and manners. Nick was never down right mean to people with his joking around.
"We'll have to ask him when we get back if he felt chills running up and down his spine during his processing. See if he knew."
Nick laughed full out at that one, "Probably'd think it was something he should shove in a jar with some scraps of someone's lunch."
"And stick in the fridge with your sandwiches," Catherine smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Whatever," Nick snorted, "Just get to work, boss. Don't want to have to explain to Ecklie why nothing got done here."
Both exchanged one more look in good humor before turning the switch off. Then their eyes honed in on anything that looked out of place in that alley way. It wasn't easy. This was a bad neighborhood and alleys like these were used for all types of activities. Ninety percent of which was something that would wind someone up behind bars.
Frowning, Nick squatted down next to the remaining shoe from the girl. He too noticed that the laces were still tied. Grabbing his camera, he quickly snapped a few shots from different angles, and markers, before reaching for it. Testing the white laces with a little pull, Nick found they were tight, as if they were just tied together. If someone forced the shoe off or the girl lost it during a struggle, it would have been a little looser from the strain, or even untied for that matter.
He wrestled with the zipper of his case. The bag was getting old and the zipper stuck about half way down. Nick knew he should look into replacing it, but never actually took the time to do it. Grabbing an evidence bag from the inside, he ripped the top of a marker off with his teeth. The shoe fit in just fine, sealed from the night air. Nothing else special to about it to catch his attention.
Once the shoe was marked, Nick lifted his head and looked around him. Catherine wasn't too far away, studying something she found on the cement. There was a swab in her hand, flashlight in the other. He rested a hand on his left knee and twisted at the waist to look behind him. Footsteps were approaching slowly, with care.
"Hey Sam."
Detective Sam Vega nodded his head as he watched where he walked, "Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to get here. Had to deal with some stuff back at the station. The other officers treat you guys good?"
"Yeah, there were two of them. Taped the area off right away," Catherine answered quickly from her spot, "On my back since."
"Good. What we got?"
"Murder, weapon of choice would be a gun. Young girl shot twice, left, possibly dumped, in the alley. David has her, heading back to the lab as we speak. Just started on the surrounding area now."
"Need me to do anything yet?"
Nick shook his head, wiping at his chin with his forearm, "Nah, man. No suspects. We'll let ya know as soon as we get something, cool?"
The cop didn't answer, just nodded. He watched the two CSI's for a moment longer before walking away to speak with one of the officers. Vega wanted to know more about how the officers came upon the scene and what steps they followed in securing the area. He knew he would be asked once he returned back to the station and wanted to be prepared.
Catherine went back to looking at the odd marks she had found in front of her on the ground. The shape was odd, smeared. She wondered if it might have been a foot print, ruined in the attempt to bolt out of the area. A marker was placed next to it, photos taken quickly. She wanted to lift it before anything could compromise it anymore.
Everything about the collection was simple, routine. Both found several things that may have connected with what happened to the girl. But Nick knew that they needed more information from the body to know what to keep and what to dismiss. This wasn't going to be an easy one, but he wasn't about to throw in the towel yet.
Not saying a word yet, the two loaded their gear into the truck. Catherine watched Nick arrange everything until he was satisfied with how it all fit. She had to smirk at the sight.
"Nothing's going to move. Just don't drive like a maniac."
Nick grinned as he straightened up, hands resting on his lower back, "And why would ya say something like that? I ain't the one who has the keys."
"Ah," Catherine smiled as she reached into her jacket pocket, "So it would seem. Almost forgot about that. How'd you get here?"
"Grabbed a ride with a badge. He was at the lab, on his way here. I figured I could just come back with you. Since you would never be mean enough to leave me behind," Nick pursed his lips at her, batting his eyelashes a little.
It worked. Catherine burst into laugher as she jingled the keys, "Alright, hot stuff. Get your scrawny ass into the truck before I make you hitch back. You might have the legs to pull it off though."
They both walked to their doors, opening the latches almost at the same time. Catherine slid in making little noise, Nick threw himself in with a small grunt. The doors slammed shut, closing off the sounds of the alley around them. With a turn of the keys, the engine roared to life and Catherine put the truck into drive. They were off, leaving behind another crime scene.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
It had been a chilly ride back to the lab. I was too nervous to ask Catherine to turn on the heat. They had always made jokes about me having too thin of blood anyways. Something about being from the South making me soft to the cold weather. This would just add fuel to that fire.
That scene had been eerie. I remember the smells of that alley. Granted, most streets in that part of the city smelled the same, something about that one bothered me most of all. Looking back on it now, I should have put more thought into it. It was something I knew. Something I had dealt with before.
But I ignored it. I let myself be pulled into the decomposing trash from the various trash bins spread out, the cat urine from the markings of different territories, and the smell of the incoming rain storm. This had been just another D.B. that we had to work. No time to worry about smells I had been sure I had made up anyways.
And then there was the fact that there had been another two, that same night. The other small team of our graveyard crew had a similar scene of their own. Same M.O. and everything. Seemed to everyone, myself included, that we are the verge of a new serial killer. It had made sense. But it was the time difference that had bothered that idea.
I'm getting ahead of myself again. The memories are there and I can just feel them warring to get out of my head. And I have noticed my writing is becoming different. Hell, I could almost begin to believe I knew how to do this writing thing. Getting all poetic and shit all of a sudden. Interesting.
But not as interesting as what else had happened that night. Getting back to the lab had been just the beginning.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Present…
Nick needed to take a break. Sweat had broken out across his forehead, hands started shaking so much the words were scrambled along the lines. It was almost too hard for him to read his own handwriting now. He let out a strained breath and pushed his chair away from the desk.
Taking a look at his clock, he groaned at the time. He needed to get some sleep. Had an appointment he couldn't be late to in the morning. Nick gathered himself up and walked unsteadily to his bed.
Once his weight was settled, Nick closed his eyes. He could feel his heart racing, the sweating had yet to let up. This was going along much harder than he would have ever thought. And he wasn't even to the hard stuff yet. This was all the set-up, the way to the big middle climax. He didn't know if he was going to make it.
Prying his eyes open, Nick looked over the table sitting underneath his bedroom window. The glass of the terrarium sparkled at him. Green, plastic scenery was bright under the light on the top of the unit. He couldn't see the frog anywhere out in the open. But after all this time he had the thing, it liked to remain hidden. Until the last moment possible.
Nick remained transfixed for a moment longer before getting back to his feet and walking slowly over to it. He reached out his right hand towards the back of the light, adjusting the white shine to the very center of the unit. Looking downward just as he was about to shift it again, Nick saw the frog. Her large, black eyes seemed to penetrate his very sole.
Without realizing, Nick gulped down the lump that had built in his throat at that very moment, and quickly turned off the light. He didn't really know why he had kept the damn thing. And in his bedroom for that matter.
But he didn't dwell on it any longer. He doused the room into a dim darkness as he rubbed a hand over his hair over and over, only the small nightlight shining. Nick literally jumped into his bed, feet going no where near the underneath, the edges of the mattress. It was a shameful thing for a man of his age to be doing, but he could have cared less. Never know what is lying in wait.
TBC…